It's Just a Job
by IWannaLiveInABigBlueBox
Summary: Kurt owns a coffee shop and Blaine is a prostitute that hangs out across the street. Or is he?
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, eventual smut, some sexual assault (not explicitly described) I'll add more as I go. For this part there's really not much.**

**A/N: Fill for this GKM prompt: Blaine is a cop who works for vice. Lately, he's been put on duty as an undercover prostitute and hates it. He has to dress provocatively, pretend to be underaged, and try to get as many johns caught as possible.**

Kurt owns a coffee shop across the street and hates seeing the small boy selling himself on the street. He overhears some conversations between him and some of the johns sometimes and is disgusted when he hears the boy tell them he's underaged and to meet him around the corner. One day he decides to get a hot cup of coffee and some treats before walking up to the prostitute. The boy waves him off when he finds out he isn't interested in sex and Kurt keeps trying to give him money.

Finally, he takes the food and coffee and thanks Kurt but goes right back to work, leaving Kurt to go back to the shop. Later that night Kurt is locking up the shop when he hears the boy screaming for help from a nearby alley. He runs to see what is happening and sees the boy struggling to get a man off him. Kurt hurries to help when suddenly the alley is flooded by cops and the boy knees the man in the groin and pulls a badge and gun.

Afterwards, he introduces himself to Kurt and properly thanks him for the coffee. They hit it off right away.

**Word Count: ~2,100**

Kurt was always surprised at the number of prostitutes he saw. Sure, he lived in New York, and the coffee shop he owned wasn't exactly in the _best_ part of town, but there really shouldn't be that many. Should there? He couldn't go more than a few days without seeing one pacing back and forth in front of his shop, and the guys that picked them up sickened him. Maybe there was a secret club nearby he didn't know about, or maybe it was just the alleyway to the right of his shop that lured them there. That place always creeped him out, and it was probably as good a place as any to make their transactions.

For the most part, Kurt had learned to ignore them. For some of the younger one's who looked scared, he'd give them something to eat, and the option to call their parents, since they were clearly underage. They always refused, and he wasn't about to call the cops, knowing the poor kids would probably end up worse off in juvie or foster care, or maybe even sent back to abusive parents. He'd be there to help if they would let him, but he'd let them make their own decisions. Most of the time they'd stick around for a few days and then be gone, he always wondered if his help made them anxious, trying to figure out his angle and what he would get out of helping them.

The strangest was a boy across the street. He'd been around for a few weeks, never approached anyone and just leaned against the wall, one boot clad foot propped against the bricks, waiting for them to come to him. So different from the others who would stop anyone on the street to offer their services to. They always came to him anyway, not that Kurt could blame them. He was beautiful, dark brown curls slicked back to his head, strong jaw line, broad shoulders, trim waist, he was probably a john's dream. He was shorter too, which gave him an air of innocence and youth, though he didn't seem like he was that young. He just held himself differently than any of the others.

Kurt watched him while he wiped down the counters. A man approached him and cupped his elbow, eyes roaming over the boys body, taking in his tight short, shorts and tanktop, topped with a leather jacket that hugged the muscles of his arms in just the right way. The boy grimaced but plastered on a flirtatious smirk when the man finally reached his face. They talked for a few minutes, the older man inching closer and closer to the boy until they were almost pressed together and his other hand rested on the boy's hip. The boy shrugged him off and started walking down the street, hips swishing seductively. The man trailed closely behind him.

Kurt sighed, tossing his towel in the dirty laundry.

—

Blaine walked away as Sam read the john his rights, a disgusted shiver running down his spine. He scrubbed a hand across his mouth, trying to wipe away the taste and feel of that guy's mouth on his. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a tin of altoids and popping three into his mouth. He sucks on them, grateful to replace the taste of nicotine and whiskey with cinnamon.

"Hey," Sam said, slamming the door to the squad car shut an thumping his fist on the roof. It pulled away, taking the pervert with it. Sam was dressed in dark, casual clothes, perfect for hiding in the shadows while Blaine lured the creeps to the designated alley to bag them for soliciting prostitution. They changed the alley after every arrest. "You wanna be done for the night?" Sam asked, putting a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine rolled his eyes, shrugging him off, "It's not even midnight, Sam." He started walking back towards his spot on the street.

"That guy got a little hands—"

"Not anything worse than the others. The more we put away, the fewer guys like that there are to take advantage of _actual _teenagers." Blaine leaned back against his wall again, resting his head on the bricks.

Sam was still new to this. Him and Blaine had met in the police academy, but Sam had failed his exams the first time around and had to retake them. When he'd finally graduated, him and Blaine had been paired as partners, as Blaine's old partner had retired from the stress of the job. He seemed to dislike watching Blaine act like a prostitute as much as Sam did, whether it was because he actually cared about Blaine, or the whole gay thing weirded him out, Blaine had never been sure of. They moved around every few weeks, staying in one area was suspicious, but Blaine hoped they would stay here for as long as possible.

It had a nice view.

He smiled, watching the young man from across the street as he danced around his coffee shop, sweeping the floors and picking up an extra trash or dishes as he went. He was gorgeous, really, perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, legs that seemed to go on forever, and his arms… Blaine would be perfectly fine with standing out in the cold, brisk air for the rest of time, as long as he got to watch the arms flex and twist as the man flitted around his shop. He was the only good thing about Blaine's job.

"I don't know how you do this," Sam muttered, making Blaine jump. He didn't usually hang around for too long, it made people nervous of approaching Blaine, and as a rule Blaine wasn't allowed to approach them. He just had to look the part and be in the right place for pervs to come to him.

"Practice," Blaine sighed.

"Ever wished they'd asked me to switch you when I got assigned?"

"You're not pretty enough," Blaine said with a smirk.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure I'd pick up twice as many john's in one night as you do," Sam said, trying to pull of teasing, but Blaine could tell he was torn between wanting to relieve Blaine from having to do this, and terrified of maybe ending up in his position if their superiors decided he would be better at it.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, " he punched Sam's shoulder playfully, "Now get out of here before you blow my cover."

Sam laughed and walked away. Blaine relaxed into the wall, his head lolling to the side. Officer Blaine Anderson, undercover prostitute. Not exactly what he'd expected when he graduated the police academy. He'd expected his own squad car and the classic blue-black uniform, driving around, checking for suspicious characters and rambunctious teenagers. Instead his pretty young face and knack for acting got him tight red shorts that barely covered his ass and a bunch of middle aged (mainly closeted) men feeling him up every night.

Yes, that was exactly what he'd always dreamed of doing when he became a cop.

Blaine blinked his eyes open when he heard someone clear their throat, surprised at how quickly someone else had approached him. He normally only got two or three a night. At this rate (this guy being his third) he could possibly get half a dozen guys off the street. His job was frustrating, gross, and sometimes scary, but it was also very fulfilling. He looked at the man and his stomach dropped, eyes growing wide and jaw falling slack. _Oh no._

"Um, hi," his voice was high and lilting, almost like a bell, and, god, his eyes were gorgeous. Blaine probably would have been a stuttering and/or drooling mess had they met under any other circumstance, but, no, his life sucked and he was probably going to have to arrest his beautiful coffee shop boy. Just his luck the only guy he'd been interested in (like, truly interested in, not just interested in fucking) in the past year had to be willing to pay for sex.

Blaine swallowed down his sense of disappointment and dread and plastered on a sexy smile, "Well, hi there."

The man laughed and rolled his eyes, "Before you try seducing me, I don't want to sleep with you."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at him, spirits daring to stir from where they'd shattered at his feet. "I'm thinking I should be offended by that…" Blaine knew his guy wasn't off the hook just yet, just because _he _didn't want to sleep with him didn't mean that he didn't have other ideas.

He smirked, "Don't get me wrong, I mean, you're gorgeous, but I don't pay for sex."

"Damn," Blaine mumbled but inside his heart was doing a happy dance, not unlike Hank Green's.

"I just wanted to offer you some coffee," he shook the cup in his hand, "and a warm place to sleep tonight if you need it, I have a cot in the back of the shop. Also," he pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his back pocket, shaking it out, "a job application, it case you want to stop doing…" he gestured vaguely to Blaine, primarily, it seemed, his shorts, "this."

Blaine just cocked his head to the side, "You don't even know me."

"True, but I know many people like you, or at least did, before they moved on to a new location because they didn't like accepting my help, but also hated how sad I got when they denied it. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge."

Blaine laughed, "So basically you're saying I have no choice but to accept."

"Unless you want to see me pout, I do very good puppy dog eyes, I promise," the man shrugged.

"What if I already have a place to stay?"

The man's face drooped a little but he seemed to push away his disappointment, "Then at least accept the coffee and the job application, even if you don't fill it out."

Blaine bit his lip, "How do I know it's not drugged?"

The man looked genuinely surprised, and mildly hurt that Blaine would think he would do that to him. "Why would I do that when you know where I work? You could turn me in."

"Unless you killed me after you raped me."

The man swallowed, "Do I look like a killer rapist to you?"

Blaine lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, "I dunno, you got some pretty nice arms there."

He blushed and looked down, "I'm trying to decide whether that was a compliment or an insult."

Blaine laughed, "Depends, is the coffee drugged."

The man gave him a challenging look before lifting the cup to his lips and pouring some into his mouth, purposefully making sure Blaine could see the brown liquid pouring down his throat. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Nope," he said confidently.

"Then it's a compliment," Blaine replied, taking the cup from him and taking a sip.

"And the job application?" the man waved the paper in front of his face.

Blaine sighed, "I'll take it, but I won't guarantee I'll fill it out."

"Why not?" he pouted, and, damn, he was right, he did have exceptional puppy dog eyes.

Blaine glanced down the street, "I kinda like this gig." Thank god for all the acting classes he'd taken as a kid.

"You like having sex with gross guys every night?" the man scoffed.

"It pays well."

He sighed, "I can't guarantee I'll pay better, but I will promise safety at work. And you'll be able to wear clothes that actually do their job of protecting you from the elements."

"I like these shorts!" he protested. He didn't really. He'd liked them at first because they'd made his ass look fantastic, but now they were just frustrating. He was pretty sure they'd shrunk.

"Still doesn't mean you should wear them at night in the middle of October."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah," he'd been meaning to ask about a new outfit. New York in the winter wasn't exactly a time when he wanted to be wearing shorts, but he didn't have anything in his personal wardrobe that screamed "underage teen prostitute, please come fuck me".

"Well," the man sighed, "it's cold out here, I have cat to feed, and you, sadly, have a job to do, so, goodbye," he waved and started to walk away.

"I'm Blaine!" he shouted after him, "By the way."

The man turned around, walking backwards, a bright smile on his face. "Kurt."

"I'll see you around, Kurt!"

Kurt laughed, "Yeah, see you around, Blaine."


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine didn't leave. Much to Kurt's relief. He came back the next night, and resumed his relaxed position against the wall across the street. He'd swapped out his shorts for a pair of skin tight red jeans, and his jacket was different. Kurt couldn't quite tell from his shop, but he was pretty sure it had warmer lining. At least he wouldn't freeze to death.

Kurt left the shop to Beth, one of his workers, for a few minutes and trotted across the street to Blaine, a cup of coffee and a cookie in his hand. Blaine's eyes were closed and he was nodding his head along to some beat in his head, very quietly humming under his breath.

"You should probably tell me your coffee order so I can make sure I'm bringing you something you like,"Kurt said, and Blaine smirked, slowly lifting his head to look at him.

"I'm getting it for free so does it really matter?" he questioned, taking the cup gratefully.

"The correct coffee order always matters, Blaine, despite what you're paying for it," Kurt chided gently.

"Well then, I like my coffee black anyway, so this is good," he caught sight of the cookie and raised an eyebrow at Kurt, "Is that for me too?"

"Yup," Kurt held it out to him.

"Kurt, you really don't have—"

"No, but I want to. Take the cookie, Blaine. And if you're good I might even upgrade you to a muffin tomorrow," Kurt gave him a bright smile and Blaine shook his head, laughing.

"What constitutes as being good?" he took the cookie, nibbling on the edge.

"Sticking around for now. Filling out the job application would get you a piece of pie," he hinted.

Blaine sighed, "Thank you for the cookie, Kurt," he said, "and tomorrow I will reluctantly, but still gratefully accept your muffin."

Kurt's grin was blinding at the promise of Blaine still being there tomorrow. He still had a chance to convince him to stop selling himself. He was too nice of a boy to be doing that.

"Hey, hot stuff. How much for a blow job?"

Kurt flinched and Blaine fought back a cringe, they both turned to face the voice. He wasn't too bad, his teeth look fairly clean, and his clothes had no visible stains or tears, though it wasn't necessarily the best matching outfit he'd ever seen. His eyes though, they sent a terrified shiver down Kurt's spine. The way he was looking at Blaine, like he wanted to eat him alive. It was disgusting.

Blaine sent Kurt an apologetic glance before giving the man his full attention. "Depends, baby, that all you want?"

"You know, I'm not sure. Your mouth is just screaming at me to be fucked, but at the same time so is that ass," he mused, "If I pay by the hour would you stick around long enough for me to wreck both your holes?"

Kurt had to fight the urge to gag. This was what Blaine did, he couldn't interfere in his way of making money or he'd never get anywhere with him.

"Sounds like a deal, follow me," Blaine started walking away, "I'll talk to you later, Kurt," he shot over his shoulder, giving him a sultry wink. Kurt blushed and hurried back across the street to his shop, Beth gave him a knowing smirk and he just glared at her until she went back to filling the creamer machines.

—

"You're punctual," Blaine remarked when Kurt showed up not more than five minutes after he'd taken up post against his wall, "are you stalking me?"

"My walls are made out of windows Blaine and you're standing right across the street," he told him, handing over the muffin and coffee. He shifted awkwardly and his comment lacked its usual bite.

"Sorry about yesterday," Blaine said, breaking off a bit of the muffin and playing with it rather than actually popping it in his mouth.

"It's fine, it's kinda your job and all. Gotta please the customer." They both cringed, Kurt because that just sounded terrible and Blaine because he hated lying to Kurt, but he didn't really have a choice.

"I'm still sorry," Blaine repeated, sipping on the coffee.

"Sorry enough to fill out the job application?" Kurt teased, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Hmm," Blaine hummed, "maybe not that sorry."

Kurt sighed, "Damn, I thought I was getting somewhere."

"Maybe if it happens again," Blaine shrugged.

"God, I hope not. I hate hearing them talk to you like that. You're not a piece of meat, Blaine. You know that, right?"

Blaine smiled, flattered, "I'm glad you think that, Kurt. Most people barely believe I'm human." It was true, even though he wasn't actually a prostitute, he still got the disgusted looks from the people walking down the street, even some of the other officers at his station thought he was scum. They thought his job was too easy, and constantly ragged on him for basically standing around all day. Despite the fact that his conviction rate was a lot higher than any of theirs, and so were his number of arrests. And they didn't feel the need to scrub their body raw night after night to get rid of those phantom touches, even if they rarely went beyond his barrier of clothing.

"Blaine?"

Blaine blinked, shaking his head and returning his focus to Kurt, "Yeah, yeah, sorry, zoned out for a minute."

Kurt smiled, "If you need anything, food, coffee, an escape from the cold, a new job, a hug, whatever, I'm right across the street, okay?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine said, a small smirk playing across his face.

"Promise me you'll come if you need anything," Kurt demanded.

"I'll be fi—" Kurt glared at him, and, shit, if looks could kill, "I promise," he agreed, "I'll come if I need something."

"Good, now I need to get back to the shop. I worry about leaving Beth alone. She steals the baby marshmallows."

—

Kurt groaned as he heaved the trash into the dumpster, trying desperately to hold his breath against the smell. Normally, taking out the garbage was Beth's job, but tonights she'd been called away because her dog had escaped from her apartment, so Kurt was left to get rid of the bag on his own. He remembered why he'd given that job to Beth when he'd hired her. He trudged back to the back door to the shop, pausing when he heard a loud moan.

"Fuck, baby, so sexy."

Kurt's blood ran cold.

"Slow down, tiger," Blaine's voice came, "we haven't discussed payment yet."

"We'll talk after," the man growled and then Kurt heard someone pushed against a wall and a muffled groan of pain.

"Stop," Blaine grit out and Kurt could hear him struggling. He yelped, wether in surprise of pain, Kurt wasn't sure. He also wasn;t sure when he started moving, but his feet were pounding the pavement and carrying him toward the sound of Blaine and the other man.

"Gonna fuck you senseless, it'll be the best fuck you've ever been paid for."

"Bla—"

There was a sharp cry of pain and then suddenly the man was on the ground and Blaine was leaning over him, pinning his arms behind his back.

"What the-?"

"You," Blaine panted, "are under arrest for soliciting prostitution."

Kurt was frozen to the spot, eyes wide as a tall blonde man trotted up behind him.

"You okay, Blaine?" he asked, eyeing Kurt.

"Yeah," Blaine breathed, sitting back on his heels.

"What about this one?" he jerked his head toward Kurt.

Blaine looked up, brow furrowed. His eyes met Kurt's and he laughed, "He's good, just get this guy out of here." He stood, dragging the john up with him and pushing him toward the blonde man.

"Thanks, Sam," he muttered, patting him on the back as he walked toward the cop car that had pulled up at the end of the alley.

"Blaine, I—" Kurt stopped, at a loss of words.

"Maybe I should introduce myself again," he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, flipping it open for Kurt to see his badge, "Blaine Anderson, NYPD."

—

"I feel like I should pay for this one," Blaine joked as Kurt slid a hot cocoa across the table to him. The shop was empty, and the police had left, but Kurt wasn't going to let Blaine leave without an explanation.

"Talk," he ordered.

"About what?" Blaine asked, feigning innocence.

Kurt glared at him, "Blaine Anderson, _NYPD_."

"Riiiiiiight," Blaine said, nodding, "_that_. Well… I'm not a prostitute."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I got that part."

Blaine laughed, trying to defuse Kurt's anger. It didn't seem to work. "I'm undercover."

"As a prostitute?"

"Yes."

"And why are you undercover as a prostitute?"

"To pick up the guys who like to take advantage of underage kids in need of of money," Blaine shrugged.

"That's all?"

"Yes…"

"Good, I was worried something bigger was happening in this area and contemplating moving my shop," Kurt relaxed a little. "Can I ask why you didn't tell me, though?"

Blaine frowned, "I couldn't. I mean, I wanted to, but I can't blow my cover. You can't tell anyone you know. You can talk about me if you want, but you have to keep refering to me as a prostitute, not a cop. If someone found out I wouldn't be able to do this anymore, or something worse could happen."

Kurt swallowed hard, "I won't tell, I promise."

"Good," Blaine's smile was gentle, "Now, how about we get to know each other, since I don't have to hide anymore."

—

Kurt found it ridiculous how easy it was to talk to Blaine. It's not like it had been hard before, but now it was even easier. Despite the fact that Blaine had lied to him, they just clicked. It was almost three in the morning by the time Kurt actually looked at a clock, and he wondered whether he should just stick around since he was opening in two hours anyway, or call Beth and tell her to open by herself so he could get a couple hours of sleep.

Blaine seemed to notice the time too, and knew that he really needed to go write up his reports before he had to go back out that night. He sighed sadly, and Kurt did too.

"Before you go, I have one more question," Kurt stated as they stood and threw away their empty cocoa cups.

"Shoot," Blaine yawned, shrugging on his leather jacket.

"These past few days, you've been flirting with me and I just kind of shrugged it off because most prostitutes use their sexuality as a shield. But…" he trailed off, not exactly sure how to word his question.

"Now you're wondering how much of it was really me?" Blaine filled in for him and Kurt laughed shyly, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. "All of it," Blaine stated simply and Kurt looked at him, wide eyed.

"All of it?"

"All of it, every flirtatious comment, every complement, every wink, I meant it all."

Kurt blushed, scuffing his shoe against the linoleum floor, "Well, in that case, would you want to, I dunno, go out sometime?" he winced, hating how nervous and scared he sounded. "Unless, of course, you're not allowed to do that, then, yeah, I understand that, forget I said anything," he added quickly, slinging his back over his shoulder.

"Kurt," Blaine stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I would love to go out with you."


	3. Chapter 3

"He asked you on a date?"

"_Sam_."

"And you said yes?"

"Of course I said yes, Sam."

"But, like, he knows you have to let guys grope you every night for work, right?"

"Yes, Sam, he is aware of that little tidbit."

"And he doesn't care?"

"_Sam_."

"I'm just saying, if I were to date you, I would so totally mind that my boyfriend is being molested by sleazy old men every night."

"It's just a date, Sam. It doesn't mean we're going to become boyfriends."

"Oh, c'mon, Blaine, he'd be crazy to not fall for you. You're a sexy beast, man. I've seen you in your underwear, you're like a… like a greek god or something."

"Aww, Sam, it almost sounds like _you _want to be the one I'm going out with."

"Dude, appreciating the fact that you are a good lookin' guy does not mean I'm going gay for you. A person would have to be blind to not check you out."

"Yeah, well—"

"Anderson! Evans! I expect those reports from you in the next hour, stop your yammering!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Of course, Boss."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"So you think you'll get laid this weekend?"

"_Sam._"

—

"So I'm still getting free coffee, eh?" Blaine smirked and Kurt rolled his eyes as he trotted across the street.

"Of course, silly. And if you get a chance to come into the shop later, I'll give you a slice of Beth's world-famous rhubarb pie," he wiggled his eyebrows, handing Blaine the coffee.

"World-famous, really? Blaine questioned.

"Well," Kurt sighed, "as long as you don't count the world that extends beyond this street, then yes, it is world-famous."

"Ah, yes, the beautiful world of James street. I'd almost forgotten that was the planet we lived on. I was never good at geography."

"You just wanted to play with the toy guns all the time, didn't you?"

Blaine shrugged, "Guilty as charged. We still on for tonight."

"Of course," Kurt said, a bit affronted, "why wouldn't we be?"

"No reason, just checking. I'll just come into the shop around seven, sound good."

"Sounds fantastic," Kurt clapped his hands, but his eyes narrowed when he saw a man eyeing Blaine from down the street, "I guess I better let you get back to work then," he jerked his head towards the man.

Blaine's eyes flickered to him and he sighed, "Yeah, see you tonight, Kurt."

Kurt gave him an awkward smile and turned walking away. Blaine cocked his head to the side, watching the swishing of Kurt's hips.

"Stop staring at my ass, Anderson!" Kurt called over his shoulder.

Blaine laughed, "Only when it stops being perfect, Hummel!"

—

"You changed," Kurt said when Beth let Blaine into the back room of the coffee shop, later that night. Kurt was leaned over his desk, search through the receipts from the past month. Blaine came up to stand behind him.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to look like a prostitute, or—"

Kurt laughed, "No. It's actually kind of nice to see you in clothes that don't look like they're cutting off your circulation."

"You're one to talk, Mister," Blaine commented, swatting at Kurt's ass.

Kurt gasped, jumping a little. It was almost scary how much tighter his pants seemed after that one small gesture. He swallowed hard, "Been playing a hooker too long, Anderson? Don't even know how to go out on a date without making everything sexual?"

Blaine smirked, "I'm not sure if you can really blame it on my job or if it's just how sexy you look in those jeans. Plus, the position you're in…"

Kurt straightened up, his face heating.

Blaine paused, "Sorry if that was… I can knock the flirting down a peg," he was used to playing the part of Blaine the prostitute with Kurt on the street because he still had to keep up appearances, but he wasn't exactly sure if Kurt was okay with it when it was just the two of them.

Kurt smiled, putting a hand on his arm, "It's fine, Blaine. I'm just… not exactly used to people making those comments about me."

Blaine's eyes widened, "Are all the guys that come into your shop blind?"

Kurt laughed, blushing brighter, "I-I… I've just never thought of myself as… all that good looking before. The idea of someone flirting with me is… a strange, strange concept," he shrugged, tracing the tile on the floor with the toe if his boot.

"You know what, I'm going to make you believe it. You are a beautiful man, Kurt Hummel, and I'll prove it to you, no matter how long it takes."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"And I'm going to start, tonight."

—

"_Blaine_," Kurt whined, "_I_ asked _you _out on this date. I had plans."

Blaine stopped from where he'd been dragging Kurt towards the mall, "Did you have reservations?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Would it absolutely break your heart if I took over the date for tonight, and scrapped all your plans?"

Kurt frowned.

"We can do them another night, if you like."

Kurt's eyes brightened at that, "Another date?"

"I'm sure hoping there will be one."

Kurt pursed his lips, thinking. He sighed, "Okay, lead the way."

Blaine smiled brightly and he couldn't resist the urge to lean up and kiss Kurt on the cheek, before pulling the blushing man along behind him.

—

"You're buying me clothes?" Kurt asked incredulously, "I think my closet might burst…"

"We," Blaine said, "are having a photo shoot, but first we have to get you the absolute perfect outfit."

"A photo shoot?" Kurt said cautiously. He didn't like photos of himself. It was too easy to see all the imperfections.

"Yes," Blaine nodded, "and then we're going to look at every picture—and we're not going to delete a single one—and you're going to tell me what you see when you look at the photos and I will tell you what I see, okay?"

Kurt's brow was furrowed, "I don't know, Blaine…"

"That okay was rhetorical," Blaine said, "you don't actually have a say in this. You gave up your date planning rights and this is how I'm going to show you how perfect you are."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but allowed Blaine to pull him back towards the men's fashion department.

"Pick anything you want."

—-

Kurt picked out a pair of painted on dark gray skinny jeans and a purple silk shirt with a black waistcoat anddragon eye broach that he had actually had his eye on for a while. He topped it off with knee high black boots with dark purple laces.

He spun in a circle for Blaine once he had finished changing and Blaine had to remind himself that this was phase one of his make-Kurt-realize-he's-beautiful plan, not phase five, which included ravishing him and worshiping his body.

"Fantastic," Blaine breathed, shifting a little in his seat in front of the dressing room to try and relieve simultaneously relieve some pressure from his growing cock and hide his erection. "Can I do you hair?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a step back, "You are not shellacking my hair to my head, Anderson," he growled.

Blaine laughed, "No, no, I actually… I wanted to make it kind of… messy?" he questioned, noticing how Kurt was immediately on the defensive when he thought his hair was in danger.

"Messy?"

"You know, the sexy mussed, look-like-you-just-had-sex look."

Kurt flushed, swallowing hard, "Um… sure?"

Blaine smiled brightly, "Come kneel in front of me," he instructed, turning around to grab his emergency bottle of gel from his camera bag. When he turned back around Kurt was kneeling where he'd told him to, looking up at him with wide, calculating eyes. Blaine took a deep breath, shifting in his seat again. Kurt's eyes flickered down to Blaine's crotch and they widened even more. He seemed incredibly shocked that he had had that effect on Blaine.

"Sorry," Blaine murmured as he started running his hands through Kurt's soft locks, pulling them from the form the hairspray had shaped them into and making them fall flat against his forehead before opening the gel bottle and squirting a little onto his palm. Kurt tensed, eyes narrowing again. "I'm not using much," Blaine assured him, "and it'll help it stick up, not down."

Kurt nodded slowly and Blaine spread the gel around on his hands and fingers before sliding it through Kurt's hair, pulling and twisting gently, making it stand up wildly. He got a little more gel to add the finishing touches.

"Done," he announced and Kurt stood, heading over to the mirrors to check it out. Blaine wiped his hands off on a tissue and then went over to join him, propping his head on Kurt's shoulder. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, wrapping his arms around his waist, while keeping his hips away from him, his cock still pressing tightly against his zipper.

"Not bad, Anderson," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine's reflection in the mirror, bring his hands up to twine with Blaine's resting against his stomach.

—

They ended up back at Blaine's after the photoshoot, sprawled out on his living room floor with Blaine's laptop resting in between them as they looked through the pictures.

"What do you see in this one?" Blaine asked and Kurt looked at it critically like he always did. He was straddling a statue of a horse they'd found outside the mall and had quickly climbed on top and snapped the picture before the security guard could catch them.

"I see, how fat my thighs are compared to the rest of me."

"Really?" Blaine said, "_I _see a boy who loves to climb on everything and who has an incredibly muscular body that has been built to help him do that. Including thighs that could probably crush a man's head."

Kurt laughed, the blush he'd had on his face since they'd sat down still going strong. "Why would I crush a man's head when he's between my legs?"

"Maybe he's giving you a mind blowing blowjob and you're in such ecstasy that it just kind of happens," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt gaped at him, "That- that's not a good thing, that's a terrible thing! My thighs are a curse!"

"Maybe you'll just have to find a guy who's arms are stronger than you incredible thighs, so he can hold them apart and avoid death. And if he can't, well, he obviously wasn't right for you."

"Do you think your arms are strong enough?" Kurt smirked and then flushed when he realized what he said, "I mean, I-I… uh…"

"We could always test it?" Blaine said, wiggling his eyebrows. He inched closer to Kurt putting his hand on his knee and leaning in close. He gave Kurt a few second to pull away but the other man seemed frozen, breath coming in short gasps against Blaine's lips. Blaine leaned forward the remaining inches, capturing Kurt's lips. Kurt unfroze and moved his lips slowly against Blaine's, whimpering quietly when Blaine bit his lip gently.

Blaine's hand creeped up his thigh a little more, fingers brushing over the inseam of his pants and Kurt jumped back, flushed and panting. "T-too soon," he stuttered, "not tonight."

Blaine nodded, sitting back on his heels from where he'd been kneeling over Kurt. Kurt looked down at his watch and groaned.

"I have to get going anyway," he said apologetically, "I need my beauty sleep, and it's already late."

"Okay," Blaine said, a little disappointed, standing and pulling Kurt to his feet. Kurt saw the frown on his face and leaned in to give him a sweet kiss and wipe it away.

"We'll get there," he murmured, "I'm just not a sex on the first date kinda guy. You gotta try harder, Anderson."

Blaine smiled, threading his fingers through Kurt's hair to pull him in again, swiping his tongue across the seam of Kurt's lips, He gasped, opening his mouth to him and gripping onto his shoulders for support. "As long as I can do this…" he whispered, leaning his forehead against Kurt's, "I honestly don't mind waiting."

**A/N: There's a link to the brooch Kurt wears on my profile if you wanna see it.**


End file.
